Chapter 78: I Don’t Usually Laugh
Saul felt a bit dazed, as if he were floating.
His teeth? They might’ve been clamped onto his lower jaw—or maybe just biting air.
His hands? They might’ve been gripping the armrests—or perhaps flailing wildly in the air, or even doing some kind of seaweed dance.
Saul hated this feeling of losing control—though it was oddly exhilarating.
It reminded him of the day he completed his transformation, when the world turned into soap bubbles, and he was powerless to stop it.
“I have to stay wide awake,” Saul thought hazily.
He began to meditate.
The image of the strange walking figure emerged in his mind.
Dots, lines, shapes, surfaces… unfolding bit by bit.
As the monster at the very bottom appeared, his rationality returned, and his thoughts sharpened.
Then came the fear.
Opening his eyes, Saul discovered a shadowy figure crawling over his body.
The figure’s hands and feet clung to him—its feet pressed against Saul’s knees, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other clawing at the air.
Its head was a vague blur, its features invisible, but it swayed side to side as if searching for something.
Strangely, though it was right on top of Saul, it seemed unable to see him.
Its and swiped through the air, passing powerlessly through Saul’s body and the chair behind him, unable to touch anything solid.
Faintly, Saul thought he heard a roar from his memories.
It was Sid’s voice.
Suddenly, the shadowy figure’s head jerked as if it had found something, locking onto Saul’s face.
The shadows scattered like grains of sand in the wind, gradually revealing Sid’s twisted, ferocious expression underneath.
His eyes slowly focused, and in the next second, he ripped his mouth open wide.
“Found you.”
As that warped, menacing face drew closer, Saul still couldn’t control his body.
All he could do was force himself to stay calm, lifting his gaze to meet those tiny, nearly invisible pupils.
Sid came closer and closer, his grimace stretching into a sinister smile. Despite being a spirit, he seemed to exhale an icy breath of death straight from the underworld.
The cold gust on his face made Saul blink, but contrary to what he’d expected, he wasn’t as afraid as he thought he’d be.
He’d killed Sid once.
He could kill Syd’s resentful spirit again!
The heads of the man and the spirit were nearly touching…
A stinging pain flared in Saul’s forehead. He braced himself to unleash a mental shockwave, even if it meant damaging his own spirit, to strike the undead.
But in an instant, an arc of unidentifiable color surged from Saul’s body, transforming into a massive net that enveloped Sid’s resentful spirit entirely.
The moment the electric web touched Sid’s form, his face contorted. His mouth gaped open, revealing a pitch-black void behind his teeth.
Sid was wailing.
But the sound didn’t reach Saul’s ears.
Sid arched backward, trying to pull away.
Yet his hands and feet seemed glued to Saul’s body, unable to break free.
Under the electric net’s stimulation, Sid’s spirit grew more and more translucent, rippling as if it might vanish at any moment.
In a final desperate move, he gave up escaping and lunged at Saul again. His mouth stretched so wide it nearly split to the back of his head, the dark void within large enough to swallow Saul’s entire face…
In a flash, another silver-white electric net erupted from within Saul, slamming directly onto Sid’s face and halting his attack completely.
The net tightened, and Sid’s already faint spirit began to emit wisps of green smoke.
The silver web sank deeper into Sid’s form, like it was squeezing a balloon stretched to its limit.
Finally…
*Bang!*
Sid’s resentful spirit couldn’t withstand the pressure and exploded.
Saul instinctively imagined the sound of the blast, and a wave of relief washed over his body.
In the split second of Sid’s spirit bursting, Saul thought he glimpsed a white shadow and a black shadow dart out from the wreckage of Sid’s spirit.
The white shadow burrowed into Saul’s left hand.
The black shadow tried to flee outward but was yanked back by an overwhelming force toward Saul’s left shoulder.
If Saul could move, he’d have immediately turned to track that black shadow.
What was on his left shoulder?
The diary?
The next moment, an intense sensation of falling hit him, and his entire being slammed back into his body.
It didn’t hurt, but he felt drained.
Nick’s cold voice cut through. “It’s done. The resentful spirit on you has dissipated.”
Saul weakly lifted his head, catching sight of Nick setting the control panel down on the table.
Seeing Saul regain consciousness, Nick tilted his head slightly downward and asked, “How was it? Pretty quick, right?”
Saul replied feebly, “How long did it take?”
Nick glanced at the hourglass clock. “One minute and forty-five seconds.”
The restraints on Saul’s body had retracted at some point. He managed to prop himself up with his hands on the armrests and stand.
He stood, alright—but as he tried to step forward, his upper body lurched ahead while his lower half didn’t follow.
His legs were jelly. He stumbled forward and crashed to the floor.
“You okay?” Nick’s voice came from across the room, lacking much warmth. “I forgot you’re young. You react more strongly to this kind of stimulation.”
Saul pushed himself up with his hands and looked up.
Why did it feel like Nick was mocking him?
But when he looked, Nick’s face was as impassive as ever, showing no trace of ridicule.
Saul gave up and sat on the floor, waiting for some feeling to return to his legs before slowly standing again.
“Anyway, today’s experiments are done. You can go rest,” Nick said, quietly tidying up the lab without any intention of offering a hand.
“Alright, Senior.”
Saul stood on the ground, his feet feeling soft and unsteady, like he was stepping on cotton.
“When should I come back tomorrow?”
“No need to come so often. Every three days is fine.” Nick paused what he was doing and glanced at Saul’s trembling legs. “The test subjects need rest too, after all.”
Saul: “…”
Senior Nick was *definitely* mocking him!
In the end, Saul left the lab leaning against the wall for support.
The moment the door closed behind him, he faintly heard an exaggerated burst of laughter.
It was so intense it sounded like whoever was laughing might pass out.
Then came the sound of something hitting the table;
Then the thud of a heavy object hitting the floor;
Then the pounding of a fist against the ground…
And the laughter continued unbroken through it all.
“Was it that funny? And you claim to be good at handling emotions!” Saul grumbled inwardly. “Is this how you manage yours?”
The sounds from the room persisted.
Amid that exaggerated laughter, a faint trace of pain began to seep through.
Saul’s indignation was suddenly overtaken by an inexplicable sense of unease.
He pressed his lips tight, glanced back at the firmly shut lab door, and hurried away.
The laughter finally faded behind him.
To avoid looking suspicious, Saul straightened up and puffed out his chest before entering the ramp, pretending nothing was wrong.
The downhill path was tough, especially with wobbly legs.
Saul barely made it back to his dorm. Before he could even reach the bed, he collapsed face-first onto the floor.
Completely out of energy, he gave up, relaxed his legs, flipped over, and lay flat, staring blankly at the ceiling.
So much had happened this morning—his brain felt like it was about to burst from all the information.
Mentor Anze, who hated trouble;
The Mutual Aid Society, growing in influence;
The Tower Master he’d brushed past;
The new Level 2 female wizard;
Mentor Rum’s olive branch;
The secrets Senior Nick revealed;
And that final clash with Sid…
Saul sat up abruptly.
He looked at his left shoulder, where the diary hovered quietly, calmly spectating.
But just before Sid’s resentful spirit vanished, a black shadow had clearly been pulled toward his left shoulder.
If anything could affect a resentful spirit, it had to be the Diary of the Death Wizard.
“What was that black shadow?” Saul tried asking the diary, but it ignored him.
The black shadow’s whereabouts were unknown, and the diary remained as aloof as ever.
Saul turned his attention to the white shadow that had burrowed into his left hand instead.
His modified left hand was primarily made of plastic bone, enhancing his magic and boosting his dark-attribute perception.
It was more of a support tool with some defensive capability, but it didn’t offer much in terms of attack power.
As a result, his left hand usually didn’t stand out much.
Today, though, was the first time it had acted strangely.
It made Saul a little nervous, worried that one day he’d wake up to find his left hand mutating out of control.
But even with this vague concern, he hadn’t expected that when he looked at his left hand, the diary would actually respond.
[Moon Calendar, Year 314, August 25, Sunny
The trash you made accidentally absorbed a soul fragment.
Only now do you realize that the left hand you haphazardly crafted is actually a new type of spiritual resin material.
This spiritual resin is pretty shoddy, but at least it can hold a soul fragment for two days.
But what can you do with a soul fragment?
Play cards with it?]
Ohhhh
ReplyDelete